


I just want your extra time and your ~kiss

by oworestias



Series: Laurent and Pallas are trying their best [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: A nice quiet bath time w the lads, Cause I'm anime trash apparently, Gratuitous scheming over desserts, Implied Sexual Content, Lingerie, M/M, Nosebleeds, Stealthy garden crawling, casual touching, that's an understatement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-22 15:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14311455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oworestias/pseuds/oworestias
Summary: Pallas decides to tell Lazar how he feels and Laurent decides to help





	1. Chapter 1

Pallas peered around the corner, watching Lazar standing in the large marble foyer of the palace with two soldiers, speaking quietly amongst themselves. 

Pallas had been seeing Lazar, enthusiastically and frequently, for over a year now. When the older man had approached him initially, with broken Akielon and a confident grin, Pallas was amused and then charmed, and after he lifted his skirt, he was enamored.

And even though they've been fucking for well over a year, there has been no talk of anything more. The language barrier is slowly disappearing, Lazar is quick to pick up conversational phrases and eventually full sentences, and Pallas had basic Veretian to begin with. And now Pallas is quickly running out of excuses as to why he hasn't said anything.

But why hadn't he said anything yet, he thought, still watching Lazar from around the corner. The depth of their relationship, if they had one, made it seem like the feelings were mutual. But over the past week, the fact that they hadn't discussed it at all has just been needling at him.

“If you're planning a direct hit from this vantage point, I'm afraid our Champion may even find this to be a challenge.”

The sudden voice in his ear had him scrambling back from the corner with a hand clutched over his heart in shock.

Laurent slowly raised himself from his bent position over where Pallas had been not so subtly snooping and without breaking eye contact raised one delicate eyebrow.

“Your Majesty! I, I had no intention of attacking your guard. Of attacking Lazar. I,” Pallas swallowed and nervously darted his eyes back to where he had been kneeling. “I was considering how best to approach. Just to talk.”

“To talk.” 

“Yes. I, uh, there is something I wish to address with Lazar and have not yet found the right opportunity.” Pallas said and slowly stood from his semi-sprawled position on the floor.

“And what might this something be?” Laurent's voice was a polite curiosity that Pallas’ gut feeling told him not to believe as anything other than highly suspicious.

A rosy blush dusted Pallas’ cheeks and he looked away. Laurent eyed him and repressed a smirk. Seeing men like Damen and Pallas act bashfully never failed to amuse him. 

“I see.” Laurent said. 

Laurent turned and walked around the corner to dismiss the two soldiers with Lazar only to find all three missing. He paused before turning back to Pallas. “Come,” he said, already turning to walk away, “to the gardens.”

-

They ambled around the low hedge rows, murmuring quietly and keeping their eyes and ears sharp. From an outsider's perspective, it would seem like a polite stroll between King and Champion, sharing pleasantries in the afternoon heat. 

“Taking into consideration,” Laurent kept his eyes passively forward as he spoke to Pallas, “the breathtaking flora the palace gardens have to offer,” Pallas began to sweat, “what would you liken most to Lazar’s beauty?” Laurent darted a glance at Pallas’ steady blush and willed himself to remain collected.

“Your Majesty, I don't think-”

Pallas was suddenly hauled to the underbush of the hedges where he crouched in the dirt with his King. Laurent placed a fine boned finger to his mouth, and looked at Pallas before glancing to the left, then listened. Pallas heard the sound of footsteps approaching from a few yards away over the hedge. He made an attempt to lift his head and peek but was roughly dragged back down by Laurent.

“Why are you people so incapable of stealth?” He whispered furiously at Pallas, but more so to himself. Pallas didn't understand. He crouched lower. 

The footsteps turned and grew distant. Laurent indicated to follow him, and turned to crawl along the length of the hedge. Pallas momentarily gawked at his King on his hands and knees in the dirt before, of course, following. They crawled maybe 50 metres, he guessed, before Laurent abruptly stopped and made a shushing sound. Pallas hadn't made noise, but held his breath all the same. Laurent silently turned to him before tilting his head toward a small gap in the hedge. The hedge itself reached no higher than his hips, and the gap Laurent was silently gesturing to would fit maybe a small child or a dog. Laurent slowly reached forward and gently straightened the chest of Pallas’ chiton before making a fist and forcing him head first into the hole. Pallas’ shock would have been audible if his mouth were not full of twigs. Approximately 7 seconds later the miniscule space was made smaller when Lauren forced his head and one shoulder in beside and on top of Pallas. Pallas didn't have time to process his shock at the close proximity of his King before he recognized the voice of the owner of the footsteps. He paused his movements and strained to hear.

“...forgive me, your Majesty.” Said a voice that was distinctly not Lazar, and coming from behind them.

Laurent made no move to exit the shrubbery and after a moment said, “This is he.”

The servant hesitated, clearly unsure what to make of the sight before him before continuing, “Exalted has asked the kitchen to prepare a selection of desserts for his Highness now that the summer fruits have ripened to satisfaction.” Laurent paused, considering, before shuffling out of the hedge as gracefully as one can manage backwards on one’s elbows and knees, before tugging on Pallas’ bicep to dislodge him and made to stand. He turned to the servant, swept a cursory hand through his hair and said, “Tell my husband I will join him shortly.”

Laurent watched the servant disappear through the palace doors before turning to Pallas who was staring resigned at the spot Lazar had just been. Laurent paused. “Follow me,” he said, “we will discuss our next move over peach tart.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason Laurent is such a youthful babe is bc every scheming conversation he lulls his collection of Handsome Men into ages them by the decade each time lol

Damen sat with his eyes steady on Laurent and his smile politely blank. He blinked. Laurent blinked back. 

They were in one of the small rooms overlooking the gardens, with several large windows opened wide to allow for a soft breeze from outside to filter into the otherwise stagnant aired room. The table was small, or perfectly sized for an intimate meal for two.

Pallas sat between his Kings and made a conscious effort to hold his shoulders so as not to brush against either men. His eyes darted to Damen, then Laurent, then to the cooling tart on the table in front of them. Damen had not taken his eyes off Laurent since he strode into the room with Pallas trailing behind with an expression that suggested he did not realise he was entering the lion’s den until it was too late. He had opened his mouth to excuse himself but Laurent cast him a smile that could cut glass and waved to a servant to find a third chair. They sat. 

Laurent sent away the servants before they could serve the dessert and began to slice into the buttery crust himself. “Tart?” He directed the question at Pallas before placing a slice before him on the too small table. Pallas looked like he was fumbling his way through several excuses to escape before taking a breath and saying, “thank you, Your Majesty.” Laurent smiled, satisfied and began to serve himself. Damen had dropped his smile and judging by the furrow of his brow, was moments away from shortly demanding why they was enjoying an afternoon dessert date with Pallas instead of each other. Laurent half stood from his seat to reach across the table and lightly run his fingers down Damen’s cheek to rest under his chin, gently holding his face before asking, “Tart?” Damen blinked then warmed at the gesture before nodding dumbly despite himself.

Pallas blushed at the scene before him and shuffled in his seat, knocking a knee with one of Damen’s under the table. Damen didn't seem to notice.

“How do you think,” Laurent began with a casual air that suggested none of what he was about to say was casual, “I would go about a confession of tender and,” his gaze flicked indifferently to Pallas who was quickly demonstrating the speed of which his face and then wonderfully, his chest, could take on a vibrant shade of red, “despite better judgement, sincere romantic devotion?” Laurent glanced back at Damen and raised a golden brown before taking a bite of his tart. Whatever Damen had anticipated happening, this was not it. A small rush of warmth filled his chest and, momentarily forgetting Pallas’ presence to his immediate left, Damen leaned forward with his head in his palm and landed Laurent with a soft look.

“Laurent, you know that I-” 

“Not you. Obviously.” Laurent held his gaze and smiled genially before taking another bite.

Pallas quickly averted his gaze and focused on the tart that had very suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.

Several emotions flashed across Damen’s face before he his gaze drifted to Pallas as an afterthought, then glanced back more sharply before considering the situation and focusing entirely on Laurent, whose face was impassive as he continued to enjoy his dessert. Damen seemed to run through several options in his head before blurting, “You're in love with Pallas now?” It sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room. Laurent’s face twitched before he became impassive as ever. Pallas looked like a man who unknowingly tied his own noose and was just now realizing what the rope was for. Damen was gaping at the two men before standing abruptly and, unsure of what to do, sat back down just as fast. “I just-” he began then stopped. “Why?” He looked back between his husband and Champion and _oh my god,_ “because he's the Champion? I still beat him! I-” Damen was verbally flailing while Laurent calmly sat back in his chair, tart forgotten for now. He sipped from a goblet before calmly placing his hand on Damen’s fist that was clenched loosely on the table.

“Husband.”

_“Sweetheart.”_

Damen looked desperate and hurt by Laurent’s lack of reaction when Pallas was clearly having some kind of crisis between them.

“I am not the who wishes to confess.” Laurent spoke in such a tone that suggested it was obvious he wasn't referring to himself, but Damen still did not understand why Pallas was here.

“Pallas, do you love Laurent?” Damen’s voice was helpless. He watched Pallas for any form of truth then said, somewhat desperately, “Of course, if that is what Laurent wants, but I just don't _understand,_ I just-”

“Damen, stop.” Laurent, who had initially seemed disbelieving and amused by his husband's train of thought now looked exasperated and a little offended. “No one here is in love with me except for you.” 

“Okay, but does that mean you-”

“No one here is in love with Pallas. Except maybe Lazar. Who was the one whom we were referring to.” Laurent spoke slowly and then nodded his head encouragingly, for Damen to follow along, “I, of course am in love with you. That is all. Are we clear?” Damen nodded and swallowed around nothing. Laurent paused minutely before smiling innocently and asking, “And do you love me?” Damen gawked then found his voice, loudly and with vigor, “Yes! I, Laurent I do, I-” Laurent raised a hand to silence him before smiling widely. Damen suddenly felt exhausted. He breathed deeply then slumped in his chair, tilting his head back and covering his eyes. A moment passed before he sat forward and looked at Pallas. “You’re here because you're in love with Lazar?” He didn't wait for a reply before continuing, “Then why are you not having dessert with him? Why are you and Laurent…” He trailed off to really think about the situation before he quickly rounded on Laurent and subconsciously lowering his voice before forcing out in a rush, _“What are you scheming?”_

Laurent fixed him with a private smile that suggested they were finally on the same page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loled for an age thinking about Damen getting all weird and indignant bc he thought Laurent was after the newer model, anyways Damen is involved now prepare urselfs for prime terrible sluething
> 
> Come chat w me on the [tumble ](http://oworestias.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nik shows up for a relaxing group bath time

Laurent suggested they find somewhere more private to discuss the matter further, and wanted to clean up after their rendezvous in the shrubbery that Damen silently decided was Not His Business and so here they were. In the baths. Alone.

Damen sat with Pallas eyeing Laurent as he perched on the edge of the bath with just his legs in the water, scrubbing gently at his face with a soft, wrung out cloth. The attendants had been dismissed for privacy, but not before sharing Discreet Significant Glances when they spotted Pallas between the two Kings. 

Pallas couldn't help the blush that dusted his cheeks at seeing the otherwise austerely dressed King so, well, not dressed. He kept his gaze on the water and sat with his hands consciously in his lap.

Damen sighed and waited for Laurent to lower himself into the water. The steam in the room had turned Laurent a pretty shade of pink that Damen tried not to think about with Pallas sitting beside him. His eyes darted to Laurent once more, who was twisting to reach a jug to his right, giving Damen and Pallas a magnificent view of his pale chest. Pallas eyes inadvertently trailed the length of Laurent’s body before landing on Damen’s and finally the white marble of the far wall. Damen cleared his throat.

Laurent slipped into the bath and sighed. He looked between the two men sat opposite him and considered Pallas’ stained cheeks and Damen’s pout. He moved on. 

“Firstly, I think-” The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down along the short entryway into the baths, Laurent turned to dismiss whoever had ignored his orders for privacy but was instead greeted by Nikandros. 

Nikandros stopped short when he spotted Pallas sitting with his Kings. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it before pausing and eyeing the three men. Then he blinked and walked the rest of the distance to the lip of the bath, sliding into the water beside Damen. They bumped shoulders before Nikandros leaned back and relaxed into the heat.

With his eyes still closed and his chin tilted back toward the ceiling he spoke into the room, “Do I need a drink for this?”

Damen considered this, but Laurent cut off his thought with a firm, “No. We are simply here for privacy. There is a matter that must be dealt with with care.” Damen discreetly rolled his eyes and turned to his friend, “Pallas is in love with Lazar but doesn't know how to confess. Or does know but doesn't think Lazar will reciprocate. I think. Laurent is helping, and now so am I.” He said the last part in a voice that suggested that no one was helping at all. Nikandros glanced at Pallas who looked like he was considering drowning himself at the opposite end of the bath, so as not to interrupt his King’s bathing time. He then turned and faced his body toward Laurent and waited.

“So,” Laurent looked between the three men before he seemed to decide on something. “I think our best course of action is-”

“You're hardly an expert on love confessions, Your Majesty.” Nikandros interrupted, “what is Pallas meant to do? Offer Lazar a Kingdom and hope for the best?” Damen snorted, while Pallas looked increasingly like he wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. Laurent opened his mouth to retort before he was cut off again, “Pallas doesn't even have a Kingdom. Although i do vividly remember you,” he turned to Pallas and smirked, “wearing a crown several weeks ago that might suggest otherwi-” Pallas gasped and twisted quickly toward Nikandros, sloshing the water, before realising himself and darting his eyes to Laurent’s face. His King didn't seem particularly distraught by the reminder of Pallas’ drunken foolishness. Most likely as Pallas seemed to have forgotten Laurent had been the instigator of the misplaced crown, Laurent instead let his eyes drift to the far wall while he considered Nikandros’ words. 

“What would you suggest?” 

Nikandros looked from Laurent to Pallas, and Pallas’ let his mind flicker briefly to the soldiers he had intended to train with right around now, but somehow he had ended up here. He focused on Nikandros’ words. “Be straightforward. You are Akielon, you have no need for Veretian games, this is probably why he likes you.” He said it with a small smug smile and passed a side glance over Laurent who returned it with a glare and turned toward Pallas, saying, “Lazar _is Veretian._ He will not understand the depth of your words if you just-” Nikandros waved his hand dismissively, “No-” 

Damen listened passively as they bickered back and forth when he heard Nikandros snipe, “and how exactly should he gain Lazar’s attention if not through his skill and sportsmanship? How will Lazar know what kind of man he is?” Damen didn't think much of it, sinking deeper into the water and tuning out his husband and friend. The water suddenly sloshed up to his neck as he heard Laurent say with petty finality, “like this.” Damen cracked open an eye and glanced over, then quickly righted himself and sat up straight when he saw his husband perched in the lap of his best friend, both furiously glowering at each other. Damen saw what they did not. Skin touching skin, touching _Laurent's_ skin. Nikandros was glaring at Laurent from his new position perched above him, damp hands finding balance on his chest. Pallas stared dumbly at his King and Nikandros before both men sharply turned their heads in his direction and spoke loudly at the same time.

Damen took in the scene in front of him for a long moment. 

He composed himself and a slow serene smile spread across his face. An airy chuckle escaped his lungs before he leaned forward to reache an arm around Laurent's waist. He smoothly scooped him from Nikandros’ thighs and place him rightfully, he thought, in his own lap. Laurent didn't seem to notice. He continued to forcefully advise Pallas, raising his voice to speak over Nikandros, who raised his voice in turn. Pallas looked entirely at a loss. His panicked expression forced a sigh out of Damen. He stood up. Laurent wrapped his legs around Damen’s waist without breaking eye contact with Pallas, and turned to yell over Damen’s shoulder as he walked them both from the baths. 

“We will reconvene before dinner,” he said loudly with a business-like air that made it seem like he wasn't being carried naked from the room by his equally naked husband, “to finalise the details.”

Nikandros huffed and closed his eyes. Pallas stared blankly at the wall before sinking under the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hc that Laurent's really used to physical contact after being around The Lads so much, but sometimes Damen gets very childish and jealous like ha ha ha my pals Do Not Touch. I'm also making a diligent effort to figure out a way to put Pallas in lingerie so bear w me
> 
> Come chat w me on the [tumble ](http://oworestias.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

Damen gave a cursory glance up and down the hallway to the royal wing, making sure it was empty before grinning and strolling leisurely down to their quarters. Laurent had been murmuring quietly into Damen’s curls and draped his upper body casually around Damen’s left side so he could watch where they were going. His plan to help Pallas was thwarted slightly by Nikandros but he had something up his sleeve that would surely make Lazar realise how Pallas truly felt. 

Damen rounded the corner to their rooms and thanked the gods the stationed guards had not arrived yet from their shift rotation. He shut the door behind them and untangled his husband's limps from his waist as he walked to the couch and dropped Laurent without preamble. Laurent twisted until his head rested on the corner cushion and angled to watch Damen wander into their bedroom to search out clothes. 

“What do you think Pallas should do?” Laurent spoke loudly enough that Damen would hear in the adjoining room. He idly reached over to the small table near him and picked up an ornate hair brush, then sat up and slowly began combing out his mussed hair. Damen walked past the doorway to the bedroom with his chiton in hand and glanced at Laurent before disappearing again. He spoke, “I think Lazar would have moved on by now if he thought Pallas was just a quick fuck.” He returned and handed Laurent his lion pin, who put down the brush and moved to secure Damen’s chiton at his shoulder. Damen sat down beside Laurent and stroked his leg softly. “Will His Highness be attending dinner as he is?” Laurent huffed and turned around, stretching along the length of the couch with his legs dangling at the knee over the side and his head laying on Damen’s thigh. He handed Damen the hair brush and hummed in thought. Damen gathered Laurent’s hair behind him and brushed it slowly away from his head. He had stopped cutting it save for a small trim every few months and it touched just below his shoulder blades now. It was soft like golden spun silk.

“I have an idea,” Laurent began evenly, watching Damen's face as he brushed his hair out across his other thigh.

“Before you tell me what scheme you've conceived for Pallas, why don't you begin with why you're suddenly so invested in their relationship to begin with? I thought you were indifferent to gossip among the guards.” 

Laurent sighed and considered his words carefully before he answered. 

“I'm very lucky to be here with you, like this. I just want…” Laurent paused again. “I want it to be easy for them.” A light blush dusted across Laurents cheekbones and he glanced away from Damen. Damen wasn't sure what to say, he smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. 

“I think at the end of the day, you're very sweet, aren't you?” Laurent met his eyes and smiled, embarrassed. His cheeks flushed a little darker.

“Alright.” He smiled adoringly down at his husband and forgetting the brush, ran his hands through Laurent’s hair. “What do we have to do?”

Laurent inwardly preened. He moved to straddle his husband's lap, resting his weight across Damen’s legs and idly twisted a loose curl around his finger. Damen was still very aware that Laurent was still very naked. He ran his hands up and down his sides and waited for Laurent to share his plan. 

“If Pallas wants to be taken seriously he should be dressed for the occasion. We will write to Charls this evening.” Laurent's voice had slipped into a business-like tone, one he used for meetings with the council.

“When you say dressed for the occasion, you of course mean…” Damen let himself trail off as he waited for Laurent to fill him in. 

“There is a new fashion in Vere it seems, a new form of undergarment that is more,” he paused to find the right word, “decorative.”

Damen quirked a brow. “Decorative? Like a new form of corsetry?”

“No. It’s more freeing, I think. It covers less. From what I understand, it’s becoming more popular among women than men, but I suppose I can see the appeal.”

Laurent tipped Damen’s head back and ran his fingers through his dark curls, holding him in place with fingers overlapping at his nape and kissing him chastely on the mouth. Laurent stood up and made his way to his wardrobe.

“When Charls arrives, you'll have a better idea. Trust me.”

-

Damen moved to the desk while he waited for Laurent to get dressed and sorted through some parchments in search of something blank. Charls had last visited the palace several months ago, staying for a week or so after Laurent's ascension. Before he could reach for the ink he was interrupted by three sharp knocks on their door. After a pause, Lazar opened the door and looked into the room before his eyes landed on Damen’s. Damen leaned back suddenly in his desk chair and quickly decided against remaining seated. He stood awkwardly and hovered his hands over the desk before coughing into his fist and looking at Lazar, who stood in the doorway watching his King become suddenly very conspicuous. 

“Exalted.”

“Lazar.”

“Dinner will begin shortly. If there is something you are still taking care of, I can ask the kitchens to wait.” Lazar spoke slowly and raised one brow, unsure if he should be wary of Damen's lack of tact and consequently whether or not he should immediately care. 

Damen paused and looked around the room for, well, anything. The bedroom door opened and Laurent strode out in his trousers and boots, quickly pulling his loose white undershirt over his head. He stopped a hair's breadth in front of Damen with his back to Lazar and spoke to the room, “Damen will join you now, I will follow shortly.” He stared intently at Damen’s face, shifting his eyes in Lazar’s direction before nodding minutely and winking. Damen blinked, nodding slowly before joining Lazar at the door. They looked at each other before Damen turned to Laurent as he walked back to the bedroom. He made a conscious effort to sound nonchalant and but instead sounded pained. He said, “Don't be long, honey.” Laurent looked back and smiled a little sadistically. 

Lazar looked between the two men and thought it was best not to ask. He had heard enough of his King’s promiscuities today.

Damen took a deep breath and walked out the door, leaving Lazar to close it behind them. They walked in silence for a few minutes. Eventually Damen glanced at Lazar and said, “have you seen Pallas today?”

 _No, but you certainly have,_ he thought to himself a little ruefully. “Not today, Exalted. We trained together yesterday.”

Damen nodded awkwardly and didn't seem to know what to say. They rounded a corner and began down another long stretch of hallway.

“He's.. very sweet. Isn't he? Pallas?” Lazar glanced over and saw Damen smiling encouragingly at him. Uh.

“Sweet?” He glanced away. _Was Damen really going to rub it in his face?_ “Yes, he's a very sweet man.” He spoke evenly.

“Very handsome too.” Damen continued like he didn't really know where his sentence would end but wished it would be soon. “His face is still boyish and cute, but uh,” he flicked a glance at Lazar and forced himself to continue, “his body has the strength of a true Champion. Well, uh, muscled,” another glance at Lazar who kept his gaze ahead, “a fine physique.” He finished lamely.

“I'm sure you're well acquainted with his fine physique after this afternoon, Exalted.” Lazar kept his gaze steadily ahead and forced the jealousy from his voice. 

“Yes! The baths, yes. How did you hea-” 

“Exalted, with all due respect, I would rather discuss literally anything else than your private meetings with _Our Champion._ ” He spoke the last part like it physically pained him. _Pallas had never even mentioned his interest in their Kings, at least not to me,_ Lazar thought. They had never discussed the exclusivity of their relationship, but Lazar thought it was obvious. Neither man had been with anyone else in almost a year. Then his step faltered. _But he has seemed closer to Laurent recently._

They reached the dining hall and Lazar quickly excused himself. Damen stood dumbly, unsure of what just happened. Nikandros waved him over to the top of the table. He wandered over and took his seat beside his friend. Pallas and Laurent had yet to appear.

“Why does Lazar look like you forced him to suck on a lemon?” Nikandros asked and nodded his head in the direction of Lazar, who was leaning against the wall at the end of the hall, quietly seething. 

Damen was at a loss. He waved over a servant for some wine, and took a large gulp. “I was helping.”

-

When the last of the council were seated, a servant approached Damen to discreetly inquire if they would be waiting for His Highness. “Send Jord to our rooms to see. He shouldn't be too long now.” He nodded his head at Jord who stepped forward from the wall he was leaning against, but paused when he saw Laurent enter the dining hall, dressed immaculately in a deep navy jacket with gold fastenings across the chest. Laurent made his way to his place beside Damen, closely followed by a mortified looking Pallas. When they got closer, Damen realised they were _holding hands._

Pallas sat at Laurent's elbow with Herrode on his right, looking withered. Nikandros sat across from Pallas, glowering at Laurent and making no effort to show his distaste.

Laurent swept his eyes across the table before landing on Nikandros and smiling beautifully. Nikandros glowered harder.

Laurent leaned into Damen’s side and spoke softly, “I've sent a runner with a letter to Charls and informed him of our situation,” Damen warmed at Laurent's voice in his ear, and then focused on what Laurent was saying. “From what I've gathered, he's not far from the capital. I imagine he should be here in a few days.” 

“And you think making Lazar jealous is the best course of action, until then? They've already fucked, it's not a matter of seduction.” Damen spoke low enough that only Laurent would hear. Laurent laughed lightly and reached his fingers up to Damen’s chin. He turned Damen’s face close to his own and spoke in the same low voice. “But husband,” his eyelashes seemed impossibly long as Laurent lowered them, deliberately glancing at Damen’s mouth before lifting his gaze, “a seduction of the heart, is a seduction all the same,” Damen felt the warmth in his chest spread lower, “don't you agree?”

Laurent held his gaze for another moment before leaning back in his chair, satisfied and accepted the first dish of the evening. Damen took considerably longer. 

-

Laurent spent the evening in hushed conversation with Pallas, which was proving to be difficult when Pallas kept making moon eyes at Lazar, who was still standing at the end of the hall. Lazar was glaring resolutely ahead, and had not looked in their direction since they entered holding hands hours ago.

The desserts had been cleared from the table and conversations began to dwindle. The council and several Kyros in attendance slowly began to take their leave. 

Pallas shifted in his seat, still watching Lazar from his place beside Laurent. He moved to stand when he felt a hand close around his wrist. “I think,” Laurent’s words drew Pallas’ gaze away from Lazar and saw the pointed look he was receiving from his King. Laurent said, “it's time to retire.” Laurent stood and leaned around Damen’s chair to murmur something. He straightened and strode out of the hall with Pallas at his side before he stopped in the doorway. He nodded to Pallas in parting, who looked relieved and quickly disappeared from the hall. Laurent then turned his attention to Lazar. 

“Lazar.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Escort me to my rooms, will you?” He smiled genially and waited for Lazar to fall into step beside him as they began walking back to his and Damen’s rooms. 

Lazar had a sour look on his face and so Laurent decided to needle. 

“Is that a suitable expression to show your King?” 

Lazar paused before schooling his face into a neutral expression. “My apologies, your Highness.”

“Lazar,” Laurent began, “you know that if the King's guard is distraught, I am distraught,” Lazar gawked at his King but Laurent continued, “I care deeply for your… concerns. I have trusted all of you to protect Damen and I, I should hope that you all would trust me with your,” he paused and looked as though the next word left an aftertaste in his mouth, “feelings.”

The empty hallway seemed to stretch on infinitely as Lazar searched for something to say that wasn't open disgust. _“Feelings?”_ He couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice. Laurent slowly placed a hand over his heart in a gesture that must have seemed sincere to him and him alone. He said, “I have always been a caring man.”

Lazar had the sudden distinct feeling he was being lead into a trap. 

They rounded the corner to their rooms when Laurent stopped and put a hand on Lazar's shoulder. Lazar’s eyes darted around Laurent’s person for a concealed weapon. “If you wish to take counsel with me, it is no trouble,” he looked intently into Lazar’s eyes and said, “I am always willing to discuss matters of heart.” Laurent spoke with an open smile on his face that dropped a cold sense of dread into the pit of Lazar’s stomach. He took a step back, thanking the gods that Laurent’s hand slipped easily from his shoulder.

“No, I-” Laurent took a step forward when Lazar took another instinctive step back.

“Nonsense, you can tell me anything.” Laurent was still smiling. Lazar began to sweat.

“Your rooms are right there, so I'll take my leave now.” Lazar made to turn when he felt Laurent’s hand close around his own. The blood drained from his face as he slowly turned back to look at his King. 

“Of course, if you're sure you have nothing to share with me,” Laurent held his gaze and gently tightened his grip, “I'm always here for you.”

Lazar nodded and muttered a strangled, “thank you, Your Majesty.” Laurent released his hand and nodded back before turned to his rooms. Lazar waited for the door to shut before letting out the breath he didn't realise he had been holding. 

-

Laurent was already in bed when Damen returned to their rooms. Damen unpinned his chiton and dropped his lion pin on the table, letting the cloth slip from his body. He climbed under the sheets and wrapped an arm around Laurent's shoulder when he moved to lie his head on Damen’s chest. 

“How was your talk with Lazar?” Damen asked and glanced down at his husband, who was idly drawing patterns on his stomach with his finger. 

“Excellent. I think he was surprised that his King would offer counsel over something so personal, I even offered him a comforting hand,” Laurent glanced up at Damen who smiled down at him, “but he seemed pleased when we parted.”

“I'm glad. Earlier when I tried to speak with him, he seemed aggravated more than anything else. I'm not sure why.” 

“Well I've told Pallas to keep his distance until Charls arrives, just in case.”

“Won't Lazar realise he's being avoided?”

“Nonsense,” Laurent curled further into Damen and yawned, “I have a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll get Pallas in lingerie if it kills me, pray for poor Charls and what I am about to put him through
> 
> Also, Laurent's wearing Balmain bc he's That Bitch. Here's the jacket: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/8d/e6/84/8de68474e25af71ce6e350ec3b0bc376--balmain-homme-balmain-men.jpg
> 
> I loled for an age @ Laurent not being able to Read The Room, anyways enjoy
> 
> Come chat w me on the [tumble ](http://oworestias.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out what theyre wearing in the notes at the end~

 

Pallas spent the next few days training with the new soldiers. He ran drills until the sweat had soaked through the chest of his chiton, bathed quickly and took his meals in his rooms alone. The trepidation he felt at avoiding Lazar was unnecessary in the end, as Lazar was nowhere to be found. 

 

Pallas had just given the men a break before they began spear throwing when a servant appeared at his elbow. “His Majesty requests your presence in his rooms.” Pallas nodded and set down the goblet of water he had been drinking from, he didn't miss the glances shared  among the soldiers before he sighed a little wearily and said, “Lead the way.”

 

-

 

Pallas was escorted to the royal wing. He hesitated before entering but found the room empty. 

 

“In here, Pallas.” He heard Laurent call from the bedroom and saw the door was slightly ajar before wandering in. He didn't know what he had been expecting but Laurent standing in a loose white undershirt and nothing else was not it. Laurent didn't turn around when Pallas entered and continued his conversation with a middle-aged man speaking animatedly and gesturing to the ribbon draped over the wardrobe door. The man looked around Laurent's shoulder and smiled widely, “Your Highness, this is him?” Laurent turned and gestured to Pallas. “Charls, allow me to introduce you to our Champion, Pallas.” 

 

Charls rushed over and took his hands between his own, leaning in and kissing both of Pallas' cheeks. “I'm so glad his His Majesty wrote when he did, I knew when the trends started changing, the palace would surely be ahead of the curve.” Charls was still holding Pallas’ hands while he spoke. He pulled Pallas further into the room and sat him on the edge the bed all the while looking intently at his thighs. His chiton had ridden up and he pulled it down self consciously. 

 

Charls had turned back to Laurent who was holding up and examining two ribbons, or something like a ribbon. They were delicately stitched together in a way Pallas hadn't seen before. Laurent turned to Pallas and kneeled at his feet, eyes still focused on the ribbons. He rested a white ribbon on his thigh before reaching up to Pallas’ chiton and pushing it up his legs. Pallas, who had been watching Laurent curiously, shot up from the bed. “ _ Your Highness! _ I don't think, I-, you-, that’s-” In the struggle to quickly distance himself from Laurent, Pallas’ sandal caught in the ribbon resting on Laurent’s thigh. Laurent watched blandly as Pallas flailed and fell to the floor. He heard Charls gasp from behind his back. Laurent rolled his eyes.

 

“Pallas, calm down and lift your skirt.” Laurent began crawling toward Pallas with one ribbon still in his hand. Pallas tried to scramble backwards but hit the wall between the dresser and the door. Laurent was slowly boxing him in. 

 

“Your Majesty, perhaps you should first explain-” Charls was cut off by Laurent shushing Pallas and giving up on lifting his skirt. Laurent quickly covered Pallas’ mouth with a hand to stop the noise, “Pallas, shh, stop babbling and listen.” Pallas blinked wide eyed at his King and shut his mouth. Laurent waited a breath before removing his hand. Pallas looked slightly less distraught, but still ready to run. Laurent sat back on his heels and said, “Look.” He lifted his shirt that had been hanging loosely around his thighs. Pallas eyes immediately shot up to the ceiling and stayed there. Laurent sighed.

 

“Pallas.”

 

“Your Highness, what would Exalted  _ think  _ if he-”

 

“Pallas.”

 

“You've both worked so hard for your kingdoms,  _ our _ kingdom, I can't be responsible for  _ tearing apart the allian- _ ”

 

_ “Pallas.” _

 

Pallas paused and lowered his gaze to meet Laurent's eye. Laurent looked like his patience had vanished an indeterminate time ago and was now resigned to live his life without it. Pallas swallowed around nothing, steeled himself and looked down. The sight that greeted him was not bare skin but a rich blue satin. Laurent was wearing some kind of tight undergarment, he knew Veretians wore light trousers under their clothes in the winter but he'd never seen anything like this before. He tore his eyes away when he released he had been unabashedly staring at Laurent’s crotch. His cheeks flushed.

 

Laurent twisted around on his knees to address Charls, “I think pink would suit.” Charls nodded in agreement and began rifling through more cloth, Laurent turned back to Pallas and spoke, “I need to see if this will fit around your thighs. There's just a lot of…” He made a squeezing gesture with his hands, “muscle, to work around.” Laurent held up the slips of ribbon and Pallas obligingly lifted his skirt when Laurent stopped him with a hand on his wrist, “have you just come from running drills?” Pallas nodded and noticed Laurent eyeing the dusty ends of his chiton. “Take it off, here,” Laurent stood and moved to the wardrobe. He pulled out a loose white undershirt much like his own, tossing it at Pallas. “Damen’s will fit.”

 

Laurent saw Pallas silently panicking at the thought of wearing his King’s clothes, “Pallas.  _ Pallas, _ it's just a shirt, put it on and come back to the bed.” 

 

Pallas stood and unfastened the pin from his chiton, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He stepped out as it pooled at his feet and slipped the shirt over his head, the hem just reaching the tops of his thighs. He quickly removed his sandals and walked awkwardly back to sit on the bed. Laurent kneeled again and moved to fit the ribbon around one thigh, but realised it was too small. He dropped the ribbon and reached for another one, this time successfully securing it around the top of Pallas’ thigh. Charls moved to look over Laurent's shoulder and murmured something about measurements before turning back to a small pile of similarly delicate looking undergarments in different colours. Pallas looked down at himself and felt the soft silky ribbon against the hard muscle of his thigh, it was a light shade of pink and contrasted with the darkness of his skin beautifully. He decided that he liked it. 

 

Laurent reached over for the matching ribbon and fit the second one around his other thigh then sat back to examine his handy work. Charls had rooted out a small pink undergarment and looking satisfied, handed it to Laurent. Laurent examined it in his hands before nodding and looking up at Pallas from his position on the floor. “You step into it, like trousers. Here.” He handed them to Pallas and slid back a few steps and crossed his legs beneath him. Pallas looked down at the delicate ribbon that matched the ones on his thighs and the lace around the middle. He'd never seen anything like it.  _ It looks very tight, _ he thought. He glanced over at Laurent who seemed to follow his thought process and shook his head. “They're supposed to be tight, but they're comfortable. The fabric will stretch to fit…” he made a vague gesture toward Pallas’ crotch, “everything.” Charls hummed in agreement. “They've been tailored to suit the male anatomy, no need to worry in that regard.” Pallas considered their words, then stood. He carefully stepped into them and pulled them up his thighs. Laurent was right, they were tight. He pulled the shirt up a little and bunched it over his stomach to get a better look. Laurent stood and reached over, “Here, let me.” Laurent pulled the shirt off Pallas’ shoulders and all three men considered the final product. 

 

Laurent slipped his own shirt over his head and walked to the far side of the bedroom where the mirror stood in the corner. He twisted around to look at himself from behind and spoke, “Has the price of lace risen with the demand? Would one sell by the bolt now?” He glanced back at Charls who had seated himself in a comfy looking chair pulled in from the adjoining room. “Certainly. Lace was never really popular outside of trimming hems and small applique detailing but it seems to be quickly taking on a new lease of life. Prices have risen nearly double since the season changed.” Laurent hummed in thought and turned to Pallas. “Come and see yourself.” He climbed back onto the centre of the bed to let Pallas have the full length of the mirror.

 

Pallas knew objectively that he was handsome. He'd heard it from passing courtiers and jeering soldiers who praised his boyish charm. He'd heard it from Lazar, enthusiastically over the past several months. But he'd never really considered himself to be  _ pretty. _ He looked down at the pink silk and lace and felt a warmth grow in his chest and his cheeks. He felt strong and precious and couldn't stop the smile that settled on his face. He  _ loved  _ it. 

 

Laurent was lounging on the sheets lazily watching Pallas and chatting back and forth with Charls when the door opened and Jord came in backwards so as not to disrupt the tray he was carrying filled with desserts and a large jug of water. 

 

Charls cheered and Laurent sat up. Pallas turned around at the same time Jord did. He looked from Charls to Pallas to Laurent. There was a pregnant pause before he spoke, “I'll just…” He moved to set down the tray on the foot of the bed. Keeping his eyes to the floor he turned to leave when Laurent said, “wait. No. This is good. Jord, come and sit.” He patted the bed beside him. Jord looked at Laurent's face, then his hand, then his face again. He didn't move. “Jord, we simply seek your counsel.” Laurent smiled and Jord’s forcibly ignored his gut feeling. He sat. 

 

Laurent reached for a pastry before passing the plate to Charls. He leaned back on one hand and said, “Are you familiar with the new fashions?” Laurent gestured vaguely between himself and Pallas. Jord processed the question and couldn't stop his eyes from lingering momentarily on Pallas’ ass. Pallas reached over for a small tart and perched on the bed. Jord didn't dare glance down at what Laurent was wearing. “I-” he cleared his throat, “vaguely.”

 

“Good. And if your lover were to wear something like this, you’d be pleased?” Laurent bit into the pastry. Jord reached for a goblet on the tray and poured himself a drink. He swallowed a large gulp before saying, a little hoarsely, “yes.” Laurent nodded agreeably. “Would it be fair then to assume that something like this would inspire desire,” he finished the pastry and chewed, “or devotion?”

 

“Uh, both?” Jord replied haltingly, having glanced down at Laurent despite himself, “both is good.”

 

Laurent sat back, satisfied. 

 

“And finally, where is Lazar?”

 

Jord paused at the sudden change of question, “He returned an hour ago, he should be on the next guard rotation.”

 

“Excellent. You may go.”

 

Jord slipped from the rooms and bumped into Damen in the hall. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it, walking briskly down the hall and rounding the corner. Damen turned to watched him go, confusion furrowing his brow. He made his way inside their rooms and heard voices from the bedroom.  _ That must be Charls. _

 

He pushed open the door and nodded in greeting to Charls. Laurent was seated on the edge of the bed slipping into his boots when Damen strolled over and kissed his temple.

 

Pallas was still on the bed eating a second tart. “Exalted.” He murmured his greeting after he swallowed. “Good afternoon, Pallas.” Damen moved around the bed and sat close to the pillows, grabbing a tart for himself along the way. “So.”

 

He looked between the three men and bit into his tart. It was apricot.

 

“What did you call it again? Lingelie?” He glanced over at Charls before resting his eyes curiously on Pallas.

 

_ “Lingerie, _ Exalted. I'll admit not many of my customers had been as adamant as His Highness with this particular trend but rest assured, Guilliame and I were quick to become experts.” Charls spoke the last part confidently and moved to pour himself a drink.

 

Damen was eyeing the lace stretched around Pallas’ crotch with suspicion. “I'll admit it’s beautiful, but you're sure it's…” he searched for the right word, “secure?”

 

Laurent snorted and returned to the bed, lacing up the sleeves on his jacket and turning for Damen to do the laces on his back. Damen finished his tart and brushed the crumps from his fingers on his chiton. He reached for Laurent's hips to pull him closer on the bed and began with the laces. 

 

Pallas sipped from his goblet and nodded, “Very secure, Exalted. It is constricting but not uncomfortable.” He stood and walked across the sheets on his knees for Damen to get a better look. “I see. And these on your legs,” he snuck a finger between the silk and the bare skin of Pallas’ thigh. “They're not too constricting? Are they purely decorative?” Pallas shook his head and glanced over to Charls. “They do hold up stockings, Exalted, but can be worn without.” Damen hummed and tied a small knot at the nape of Laurent’s jacket. Laurent turned on the bed and pulled a leg under him. Damen was fascinated. He reached down and pulled gently at the fabric hugging Pallas hips, feeling the stretch in the material. Pallas turned obligingly so Damen could see the back. 

 

“Hm. Alright.” He thought to discuss the lingerie in greater depth with Charls when Pallas had left.  _ Would Laurent wear it? _ He stopped himself from that particular train of thought for now and focused on the present issue.

 

“Charls, Damen and I will take you for a tour of the gardens. Pallas, strip.” Laurent stood from the bed and picked Pallas’ chiton off the floor. “I've told a servant to empty the baths for your privacy. I've also prepared something else for you. Meet me in the room overlooking the gardens at dusk.” Laurent left the room and opened the doors to discreetly check the hallway. “Lazar hasn't arrived yet. Hurry along now,” Pallas finished fastening his sandals around his legs and stood, he made his way to the door beside Laurent. “Wear the lingerie.” Pallas nodded and ducked out the door. He turned back and said, “thank you, Your Highness.” 

 

Laurent turned back to his husband. Damen was showing Charls a document on their desk showing the rising prices of Patran wool. He closed the door and leaned back against it. Damen looked up and smiled, “Shall we?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent possibly too long making Serious Lingerie Decisions and so here's the deal  
> Laurent's wearing Stella McCartney: https://cdnc.lystit.com/photos/3736-2015/07/12/stella-mccartney-copenblue-selma-dancing-bikini-brief-product-3-301536891-normal.jpeg
> 
> And Pallas is wearing Hanky Panky: https://cache.net-a-porter.com/images/products/496372/496372_in_pp.jpg  
> Also he's just wearing pink silk thigh garters, the same pink as the undies for aesthetic
> 
> There will be one or two more chapters I think  
> Anyways (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧  
> pls come chat w/me on the [tumble](http://oworestias.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

 

The afternoon warmth had steadily risen to a lingering dead heat. By the evening, Laurent had given up on his jacket and trousers and returned to their rooms quickly to change. He stood in front of the mirror and fastened his lion’s pin at the shoulder of his chiton. It was a light, pale blue with gold hem embroidery that brushed the tops of his thighs as he walked briskly to meet Pallas in the garden parlour room. 

 

The room always adopted a different atmosphere around this time of year, located in an area of the palace that when the rare breeze blew through the gardens from the sea, it sent a fresh, floral scent through the large open windows. The room was built maybe 9 or 10 feet from the ground and easily the airiest room in the palace, perfect for escaping the stale dry air when the heat crept in from the outside.

 

Pallas had yet to arrive when Laurent made his way inside the parlour. He stood with his back to a window and supervised the servants carefully setting the table. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard familiar voices emerging from the small maze of hedgerows. Damen caught his eye and waved. He walked Charls to a side entrance into the palace, who bowed politely on the short steps up and ambled inside. Damen doubled back and made his way over to Laurent, who noticed the hot evening sun doing wonderful things to the sweat dotting Damen’s skin. Laurent watched him approach over his shoulder before turning and leaning on the window sill to peer down at his husband.

 

“Has Pallas arrived yet?” 

 

“No, he should be here shortly. The sun is only now beginning to set.” Laurent silently thanked the gods for the the cooler night air that would soon settle in.

 

A quick knock sounded from outside the door and Laurent turned. Pallas glanced quickly into the room before spotting Laurent and closed the door behind himself. He came to stand at the adjacent window and bowed his head slightly in greeting. “Your Highness, I owe you my thanks.” He gestured to the table set for himself and Laurent. Damen laughed from below and Pallas looked down to see his King standing in the gardens looking up at them. He waved. Pallas waved back. 

 

“Nonsense. Besides, I’ll be taking my leave in a moment.” Pallas looked surprised and said, “Won’t we be eating?” He gestured again to the table that was now set, the servants having exited discreetly through a side door. 

 

“Not me, no. I've told Lazar that I've been busy dealing with new cloth prices with the council before Charls arrives and have not left my desk for several days. He's been tirelessly running around gathering intel for me.” Laurent smirked and glanced away. 

 

“Oh. I just thought that-” Pallas was interrupted when a knock came from outside the door. Pallas turned to Laurent expectantly but Laurent was hitching his leg up to perch in the window sill. Pallas could vaguely hear Damen protesting loudly from below when Laurent twisted back and grabbed Pallas by the front of his chiton, hauling him forward suddenly. He placed a quick kiss on his cheek and whispered, “good luck.” Then promptly jumped out the window. Pallas didn't have time to look down when the door opened and a confused looking Lazar wandered in. The sound of a body smacking into another body and then the dirt was just background noise when Lazar took in the scene before his eyes landed on Pallas and he smiled warmly. 

 

“Hello, stranger.” Pallas couldn't help the grin that stretched across his cheeks. Lazar made his way over and stood a little too close to be considered just friendly. Pallas smiled wider. 

 

Lazar nodded to the candle lit setup and said, a little embarrassed, “You would think that after so long, I would recognise His Majesty’s scheming when I see it.” Pallas laughed and made his way to his seat. He suddenly saw the appeal of the too small table when Lazar’s legs brushed against his own under the table cloth. Pallas leaned forward instinctively. 

 

“This sounds childish, I know, but I missed you.” Pallas scratched at his neck and laughed self consciously. Lazar, on the other hand, looked delighted. “Is that right?” Lazar’s voice was low and charming as he reached across the table to lightly run his fingers along Pallas’ wrist. 

 

Servants entered quietly with the first course and wine. Lazar sat back and waited politely, keeping his eyes on Pallas. When they were alone again, Lazar sipped from his goblet and considered before he spoke, “I thought that you, uh,” he took another longer sip and his words suddenly sounded like a confession, “I thought you had lost interest and had found your fun elsewhere.” He spoke quickly like he needed to get it out. Pallas was shocked. “Elsewhere?” Lazar shifted self consciously in his seat and laughed.

 

“I thought when Laurent suddenly took an interest in you, that maybe..” he broke off like he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. 

 

Pallas didn't know what to say. Until suddenly he did.

 

“ _ You thought I was fucking our King?”  _ He couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice. This sounded insane.

 

Lazar laughed again, like he didn't realise how silly it sounded until it was said aloud. 

 

“Kings, actually.” He finally looked up to meet Pallas’ eye across the table and saw the younger man starting slack jawed at him. He looked horrified. Lazar was hit with a sudden overwhelming wave of  _ relief. _

 

“That's outrageous. I could never,  _ I would never _ , I-” Pallas paused for a moment desperately searching for what to say when he blurted out, “there's only you. Just you, I-” He looked across the table at Lazar, eyes wide, “I only want you.” He finished lamely, then quickly realised what he had said and flushed the darkest shade of crimson Lazar ever had the honour of seeing. 

 

A long pause fell over the table while several emotions flickered over Lazar’s face before he finally leaned back in his chair and looked decidedly like the cat that got the cream. He hummed in thought and smiled to himself, before laughing like he had won a prize he didn't realise he was contesting for. “Only me, huh?” He flicked his eyes back to Pallas and couldn't stop the wry smile that stretched across his cheeks. Pallas watched him a little helplessly and thought,  _ he looks so happy. _

 

Soft whispered sounds drifting in from the garden as the sun finally set, casting the room in the soft lowlights of the candles. Lazar’s hair was swept back from his face with a loose strand falling handsomely over his cheekbone. Pallas found it hard to tear his eyes away. He made a valiant effort to focus on his plate, but couldn't stop himself from sneaking glances at the older man. A weight he hadn't realised was there lifted from his chest and he felt lighter than he had in weeks. 

 

-

 

(Approx 20 mins previous)

 

“Laurent, what are you- wait that's too-  _ Laurent get down!” _

 

Damen could only watch in horror as Laurent quickly leaned close to Pallas before turning back and smiling widely down at him. His stomach didn't have time to feel the spike of dread before he had an armful of his husband, and was greeted by the hard unforgiving ground at his back. He groaned.

 

“Do you think that was wise?” He tried to sound stern but the breath that had been knocked from his lungs left him hoarse. Laurent laughed lightly and made no move to get up. His chest was shielding Damen’s face from the last few moments of sun. Damen could hear Laurent's thighs shifting around in the grass by his waist. He reached his arms up to wrap around his husband and roll him onto the grass then settled back beside him. Laurent's laugh was full of mirth and his eyes sparkled when he turned his head to look over at Damen. _He looked so_ _young_ , Damen's chest suddenly ached.

 

The sunset cast Laurent in a rich warm glow. His hair shone like spun gold, it matched the detailing on his chiton. Damen forgot for a moment that he was meant to be scolding his husband when he was suddenly overwhelmed with the vision beside him. Laurent looked like something from myth or legend. Damen watched Laurent's chest rise shallowly with his laughter and softly murmured words, his smooth skin glowing radiantly in the grass. Damen’s throat went dry.

 

Laurent sighed contentedly and sat up slowly. He stretched his arms above his head and stood. Damen watched from his sprawled position on his back. Laurent rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to pull him up, he said, “ _ I said, _ we need to be discreet. Give me a boost.” Damen slowly registered what was being said to him while his husband helped him up. “A boost where?” 

 

Laurent shook his head and nodded to the windows. He crept closer and gestured for Damen to follow. When they were just under the window Laurent had leapt from, he turned and put his hands on Damen's shoulders. Damen didn't have time to protest before Laurent began to climb up his body. He received a sharp kick to his stomach and groaned into Laurent's chiton. Laurent had maneuvered himself up onto Damen's shoulders, with his belly pressed into Damen's forehead. Damen couldn't see past the soft silk draped around Laurent's waist. 

 

“Damen, take three steps back and stop.” Laurent voice ended in a whisper, as he struggled to angle his head to peek in through the open window. 

 

Damen did as he was told and stood with his back close to the wall. Laurent's legs hung in the space between, he shifted minutely to reach up and lightly hold onto the window sill. Everything below his eyes was hidden by the wall. Laurent discreetly eyed the scene inside the parlour and felt Damen’s hands brushing up and down his bare thighs. He turned his head and kissed along the part of Laurent's thigh that was visible from where his skirt had ridden up. Laurent's could only hear the soft kissing noises Damen was making against his skin.

 

“Damen. Damen _ , honey, focus. _ I can't hear what they're saying.”

 

_ “I am. _ I'm very focused.” He continued trailing his lips up and down the small section of Laurent's thigh before turning his head and starting on the other side. Laurent huffed, irritated, and tried to ignore what was happening between his legs.

 

Laurent could faintly make out Lazar saying,  _ “Only me, huh?”  _ when a long groan slipped from his husband's lips. Laurent didn't have time to shush him when he found himself being suddenly hauled from his vantage outside the window. 

 

“What are you  _ doing?!”  _ He whispered furiously down at Damen who had somehow slipped his head under Laurent's skirt. Laurent suddenly flushed and remembered what he was wearing under his chiton. Damen was walking them in the vague direction of the small row of apricot trees hidden behind the hedgerows, Laurent lifted his skirt and Damen’s expression suggested it physically pained him to lift his eyes from the blue silk stretched taut over Laurent's hips. He had the look of a man who had reached  _ nirvana. _

 

_ “Laurent.” _

 

Laurent didn't have time to respond before his back roughly hit the bark of a tree. The impact caused an apricot to fall on his head. He caught it distractedly and looked down at his husband.Damen pulled his eyes from Laurent's and focused his gaze intently on Laurent's cock encased in soft blue fabric. 

 

“I thought it was just for Pallas, I thought-” Laurent could feel the hot puffs of air through the fabric as Damen spoke somewhat desperately and felt himself reacting despite himself.

 

“Damen, put me down, let me-” Strong hands suddenly gripped his hips and held him in place against the tree as Damen lowered his shoulders and stood back. He re-adjusted his grip and roughly pulled Laurent’s thighs around his waist. 

 

_ “Sweetheart.” _

 

Laurent  _ melted. _ He wrapped his arms around Damen’s neck and held the apricot loosely in his hand behind Damen's head. The gardens were deserted. Damen stood for a moment and both men breathed. The cool night air had finally lifted the oppressive heat from the day and Laurent's skin felt relief for the first time in hours. Damen had buried his face in Laurent's neck and was whispering sweet nothings into the sensitive skin behind his ear.

 

“Damen, the-” Laurent’s voice sounded breathless in his ears, “the alcove in the maze. Let's go there.” He shifted a little against Damen's stomach and felt the soft slide of silk against his cock. He stifled the noise that rose from his throat. Damen pulled back to look at Laurent's face. His cheeks were dusted with a heady blush and he blinked slowly, eyes raking over Laurent's pinked skin. After a moment he said, “yes,” his eyes cleared and he shifted Laurent to let him down. “Of course.” His voice had dropped low and Laurent felt it in the warmth growing in his belly. He reached for Laurent's hand and they walked, shoulders brushing and fingers laced together, into the darkness.

 

-

 

The last plates had been cleared by the servants and Lazar downed the last drop of wine from his goblet. Pallas was smiling softly from across the table, his cheeks rosy from wine and Lazar felt it deep in his chest. He reached across to take Pallas’ hand when Pallas slowly stood. Lazar held his breath as he watched Pallas slip around the table and settle himself in Lazar’s lap. 

 

“There's something I have for you.” Pallas spoke softly and Lazar could do nothing but watch enraptured as Pallas shifted back on his thighs and reached for the hem of his skirt. Lazar suddenly thought he had misunderstood something, he quickly laid his hands over Pallas’ and stopped him. 

 

“Thank you, or, what I mean to say is-” he saw the flash of confusion and then hurt on Pallas’ face and realised desperately that this  _ was not how he wanted this to go.  _ “No, I want to, but Pallas I just-” Pallas sat back and dropped his skirt. His expression became closed off and Lazar had to do _ something _ , “I want more! I want, I-” he cringed at how desperate he sounded, “I want more than sex. I love sex with you, I do. But I want,” he swallowed around the sudden dryness of his throat. “everything.” He stared wide eyed up at Pallas who seemed to be processing what he had just heard. “I want everything with you.” 

 

Pallas had never heard the rawness in Lazar’s voice before. It made him pause, taken aback.  _ Had Lazar not understood earlier? _ Pallas huffed a quiet laugh, amused. He sat forward and draped his arms lazily around Lazar’s shoulders. “Me too. I want,” he lifted a hand and gestured between them, “everything too.” Lazar nodded a little dumbly, so Pallas continued. “That's why I wanted to show you,” he reached down and lifted his skirt. “Just for you.” Lazar’s eyes automatically dropped and widened when he saw the delicate pink lace stretched over strong hips and  _ oh my god ribbons. _ Pallas waited expectantly for Lazar to say, well, anything. Lazar would understand now how serious Pallas’ feeling were, right?

 

When Lazar stayed silent, eyes fixed on Pallas’ body, Pallas gaze drifted down too. He loved how he looked, but maybe Lazar didn't like it?  _ Maybe Laurent was wrong _ , he thought a little nervously when he felt something drip onto his thigh. Lazar’s hand, that had been holding his hip, shot up to cover his nose. Pallas blinked down at his leg and saw a drop of blood. “Lazar, are you-” Lazar’s eyes were frantic and his ears were bright red. He shook his head furiously and said, muffled through his hand, “I'm sorry, I didn't expect-” Pallas looked down, concerned but Lazar didn't look hurt, he looked mortified. Blood was dripping steadily from between his fingers and Pallas realised belatedly it was a nosebleed. 

 

He climbed off Lazar’s lap and grabbed a cloth napkin from the table. He pulled Lazar’s hand away and shushed him, wiping the blood from his face. A blush was working it's was down Lazar’s chest when he flicked his eyes away from Pallas and said, “this has never happened before, I'm sorry.” 

 

Pallas felt suddenly, overwhelmingly charmed. He tilted Lazar’s head down and kissed his hair. 

 

“I think,” he spoke into Lazar’s hair, brushing it back from his face, “it's time to retire.” Lazar had looped his arms loosely around Pallas’ waist, holding the back of his chiton. He reached up and took the napkin from Pallas, pressing it to his nose again before moving it to his lap. The bleeding had thankfully stopped. He looked up from his seat and looked hopelessly embarrassed. 

 

Pallas smiled down at him, amused at Lazar being anything other than confidently sure of himself. He reached out and took Lazar’s hand to pull him up. Lazar moved slowly toward the door and opened it, motioning for Pallas to leave first. He smirked when Pallas pulled him out the door and spoke to the empty room, “Just for me, huh?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is a very real chance I may have a couple drinks and write the garden sex scene Damen deserves but for now I have 2 exams over the next week so it'll be late next week if I can will myself to do it, it won't be fruit porn, the apricot is safe dw
> 
> Pallas and Laurent are gonna be #besties by the end of this so settle in I guess lol  
> (っ•ᴗ•)っ❤
> 
> Come chat w me on the [tumble ](http://oworestias.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat w me on the [tumble ](http://oworestias.tumblr.com)


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